


Two Paths

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deucalion makes an offer to Stiles he may not be able to turn down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Paths

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ru(i)n(e)s](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131559) by [ladyoneill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill). 



> Written for my wildcard square for Trope Bingo for which I'm using "fork in the road". This is a prequel to "Ru(i)n(e)s" and there will be at least one more.

"Did you know that in days gone past the relationship between Alpha and Emissary was something very different?" 

Seated in a wingback, navy brocade chair, Stiles rubs his sore wrist, frowning at the marks of fingers. "This is going to bruise," he snarks. Grabbed outside the school by the Alpha twins, he was shoved into his jeep and driven kicking and screaming to this luxurious apartment and left with the scariest son of a bitch he's met since Gerard.

Sipping from a cup of tea, Deucalion arches one eyebrow and smirks, then sets the cup down on a saucer and tilts his head to the cup and saucer sitting on the table next to Stiles. "It's Earl Grey, from Fortnum & Mason, best with a dash of lemon and milk. I think you'll like it."

Despite the fact that the werewolf is blind and can't get the full impact, Stiles gives him a look of disbelief and ignores the tea. "Look, dude, you kidnapped me. Wanna tell me why?"

"I was telling you," the wolf replies patiently, steepling his fingers beneath his chin and staring at Stiles until he squirms.

Maybe he can see after all.

"Marin is unreliable. She's working at cross purposes to me and thinks she's pulling the metaphorical wool over my eyes." The smirk turns to a frown and Deucalion leans slightly forward. Even though several feet separate them, Stiles shrinks into his chair. "A hundred years ago, she would have been bound to my service through certain rites, but no one employs them anymore. Of course, that means it's so much easier to dispose of an Emissary who is no longer desired."

"Are you..." Stiles swallows convulsively and tries again. "Are you going to kill her?"

"If she forces me to, but she's intelligent. She'll see reason and willingly sever the connection."

"But, don't you need an Emissary?" Research showed him that all the strong packs had them. Probably why Derek's pack is in such disarray--Deacon is only nominally his Emissary.

"Precisely."

Confused, Stiles gapes until it hits him and he squeaks, "Me?"

"Yes."

Then he scoffs in derision. "Forget it."

"But, I can offer you so much, Stiles," Deucalion replies, his voice silky and seductive. A shiver goes through Stiles and he rubs his arms. "We have a common enemy, this Darach. Right now your pack's fighting a war on two fronts and you're losing. Already down two members, how many more will you lose?"

"They died because of you," Stile snarls, anger driving away the fear.

"Casualties of war, but there don't need to be more, Stiles. Join me as my Emissary. The spark in you is so powerful even I can see you glow. I can teach you so much."

The instinctive denial is on his lips, but... "In exchange for what?" he asks coldly.

"My pack will side with yours to fight the Darach and bring peace to the town. We'll stop our pursuit of Derek, of any of your friends and family. They'll be under our protection."

"For how long?"

"Until your death."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah, and when will that be? A couple months from now?" 

"Oh, Stiles, you underestimate your worth. No Alpha would dream of harming you with that much power simmering beneath your skin when we can make use of it for decades to come. Why Derek hasn't asked you to join him is beyond me, but his loss is going to be my gain."

"No."

"Don't be foolish. Give it some thought. Your pack will lose. Derek will either be ours or dead. The collateral damage could be massive. Not only every member of his pack but your friend, Scott, his mother, the hunter girl...your father."

As the fear slams back into him, Stiles' heart stutters and he bites back a whimper.

"Agree to be mine and we'll protect them all. No one else but the Darach needs to die. Your father can stay blissfully unaware of the truth. I'll even allow you to remain with him until you graduate high school. The rest of my pack will leave Beacon Hills, but I'll stay, peaceful and unobtrusive."

"Why wouldn't I just leave you after the Darach's dead?" 

Deucalion sighs. "You weren't listening, were you. There's a ritual, a bonding. You won't be able to leave me and, to be honest, I won't be able to leave you either. And before you say no again, the bonding has benefits for you other than my promises to protect your loved ones. You'll have more control over your power and you'll grow into it much quicker. With my guidance you can become the strongest Emissary anyone has seen in two centuries."

"And you get to use me."

"Well, yes, as an advisor, mediator, companion. I can't draw on your powers, but I can impose my will on you to use them. To a certain extent," he admits a bit hesitantly, and Stiles believes that, but...

"Companion?"

Deucalion looks directly at him and Stiles shivers again. "The rite, the bond, is sexual."

"Hell no," he yells in shock, turning red with anger and fear.

Looking amused, Deucalion takes another sip of his tea.

"You're crazy and I'm out of here."

When Stiles jumps to his feet, the Alpha wolf growls an order, "Sit down," and Stiles finds himself wavering until he drops back into the chair.

"How did you...?"

"An unaligned Emissary is susceptible to any Alpha's command until he or she chooses one."

"I never obeyed Derek."

"He never tried. Probably never knew he could."

Shooting him a disgruntled look, Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and snaps, "My answer is still 'no'."

"Take forty eight hours. Speak with Deaton. Think seriously about losing everything you hold dear. In two nights, the moon will be half full, a time of balance. The ritual needs to be performed when it reaches its apex, so I'll expect your answer before the sun sets Saturday."

"My answer is..."

"Stiles, take the two days," Deucalion interrupts. "And think on this as well." Slipping off his sunglasses, he reveals crimson eyes that make Stiles want to cringe and whimper as their power flows over him. "If you deny me, once we've killed the Darach, destroyed your pack, turned Derek to our pack or killed him, I will still have you. Even though the rite has to be consensual, the parties of sound minds, and I'd prefer that route, do not think I won't break you until all you are is a mindless tool for me to use."

He replaces the glasses, then gestures towards the door. "Forty seven hours and fifty six minutes, Stiles."

Before he realizes it, Stiles is out the apartment door, in the hallway, shaking like a leaf. As he stumbles to the elevator, stomach churning, all he can see are images of his dad, Scott, everyone dead.

Because of him.

And him a drooling mess of power and submission, on his knees before Deucalion.

Over the last few weeks, he's begun to fear they can't beat the Alpha Pack. When they killed Boyd so coldly, all he could wonder was who would be next. Derek's basically given up. Scott's floundering. And his dad still knows nothing.

He could be killed so easily.

Tears sting the corners of his eyes, and, as he pushes the ground floor button in the elevator, he harshly wipes them away.

Stiles has a decision to make. Sure, saying 'no' is instinctive--and the thought of sex with the demon wolf makes him cringe--but he has to think about this.

If he says 'yes', so much will change, but they'll live, or at least have a much better chance of survival. His own future will be so different than he imagined, but...can he really weigh that against the lives of his friends, his dad?

He needs more information.

He needs to talk to Deaton.

He needs to know if this spark is really that powerful and what this ritual entails...and all he'd be giving up.

By the time Stiles reaches his jeep, he already knows he's going to say 'yes'.

End


End file.
